


Inflamed

by sdk



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Exhibitionism, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Masturbation, Public Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 15:33:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19153876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdk/pseuds/sdk
Summary: Draco finds a way to keep himself entertained during History of Magic.





	Inflamed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumosed_quill/gifts).



> One of my 10 Years at Dreamwidth Anniversary Ficlets. Written for LQT who asked for Harry/Draco, 8th year, can't stop wanking. Hope this hits the spot!

In class Draco pushes his hand beneath his robes. The desk hides his jerks; a wordless spell and his grunts come silent. Binns drones on, a Goblin Revolution about which no one cares. Draco's classmates, their attention wanders easily… to notes passed between them, to mindless doodles on parchment. Anyone bothering to look might guess at the way Draco's chosen to while away the class period, but this isn't the riskiest place he's done it. The Quidditch Pitch, perhaps, in the middle of the mostly empty stands as other 8th years flew, Draco's eyes zoomed in on the flex of Potter's thighs wrapped tightly around his broomstick. He'd come twice during that session, and probably could have gone a third had the friendly match lasted a bit longer.

Now, he's just got the back of Potter's hair to stare at. Spiky in that way that shows he actually tried today, messy in the way that shows he's still not very good at it. Not that it matters. It could be knotted and tangled, cropped close or shaved--arousal would course though him still. He strokes lazily at first; he's got a good hour before class is dismissed. But Potter leans over and whispers to the Weasel. A flash of his profile, his sparkling eyes, the way his mouth turns up as he grins. A pulse goes through him, and Draco tightens his fist. It flies. He's close. Heat flashes over his thighs. 

And then Potter looks him. Draco tries to glare, but there's a hitch in his breath and his world goes dim. There's only Potter's steely green eyes and the heat of his own fist. How he'd like to shove his cock in that mouth, watch those eyes widen with surprise, widen with shock, with lust, _need_ …

Draco comes, watching Potter's throat as he swallows, the slight flush of his cheeks, the way his tongue darts over his lips. He comes, staring, until his orgasm forces his eyes closed. He sinks down in his chair, still stroking lazily, milking himself until the high ebbs away. 

When he recovers, the back of Potter's head greets him. Draco's almost convinced he's imagined the whole thing when he discovers a piece of hastily ripped parchment lying on his desk. 

_Prefects' Bathroom. Midnight.  
-H_

Draco snatches it, shoves it into the pocket of his now-sticky trousers, and ducks his head to hide his smile. 

No one needs to see.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! ♥


End file.
